A Novel Look At... Casino Royale by Ian Fleming

James Bond is one of the most iconic characters to ever grace the big screen but believe it or not, Mr. Bond actually began life as a book character (I know, who would’ve thought it?) On the front cover of the latest printing, Casino Royale states that ‘there is only one Bond.’ I’m here to tell you that’s absolute nonsense, there are six different Bonds and I’ve seen all six of them so why is this book lying to me? Why lie, spy? But enough about taglines full of deceit, I have a book review to write.

            We join British Secret Service agent, James Bond, as he tries to bankrupt Le Chiffre, the paymaster for Russian counterintelligence agency, SMERSH. Le Chiffre is a keen gambler and an extraordinary card player, risking his organisation’s huge cash flow at the baccarat table. Bond is tasked with defeating Le Chiffre to deplete SMERSH’s funds. As neither side can afford to lose, the two men realise they are not just playing for money; they are playing for their lives.

            When you start reading, you are immediately sucked into a world full of glamour, strolling through the casino, eyes on the rich and powerful winning and losing. It’s a beautiful place with an ugly underside but for all of Ian Fleming’s intricate descriptions, I found myself getting bored. There was so much background information about who was doing what and which country was helping who that I flipped through the book to see when the action picked up. Then there was the game of baccarat itself. Mathis, one of Bond’s accomplices, explains for the benefit of another undercover agent the rules of the game (though really, I’m sure it was an explanation for the readers who didn’t have the foggiest clue how to play). I don’t know how but I was more confused after the explanation than I was before it.

            I didn’t find any of it exciting. I really tried to get into it but I couldn’t. I still read the whole thing through because I paid good money for it but I was dying of boredom and confusion the whole way. Even when the main conflict was resolved, the novel dragged on for about 50 more pages about Bond and his love interest that had no repercussions for the follow-up novel, Live and Let Die (for which there will be no review because I found that to be a tedious read too).

           As an avid reader, I’ve spent most of my life trying (and failing) to convince people that films based on books are never as good as the source material. When it comes to Bond books though, my argument falls flat on its face. Stick to the films because they’re awesome.